


Carnival of Rust

by I_will_sleep



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's Halloween, M/M, Necromancy, Pain, Vampire Lance (Voltron), Witch Keith (Voltron), Witch Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-01-06 09:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21224075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_will_sleep/pseuds/I_will_sleep
Summary: ~~~Do you breathe the name, of your savior, in your hour of need~~~The darkness had fallen outside of my little cottage. I was working on my spells like I usually do, until I heard a series of knocking echo in the room. I quickly blew out the candles that sat on top of the table and ran to the door.





	1. Bloods Flow

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this story about 4 months ago, based on a CMV on YouTube.

Lance’s POV 

It was around 8 pm when I chose to take a walk outside. It was a beautiful night. The time of autumn that coloured the leaves into a pretty shade of red, orange and yellow. Clear night sky, almost full moon sat at its highest place proudly. The sky was covered with stars, each of them different shade and size.  
As I made my way down the dark street, I tried finding the different constellations and making a few of my own.  
It was a peaceful night indeed. 

Third person POV

As Lance made his way down the streets, clearing his mind, and the constant, nagging feeling that he was being watched, didn’t exactly help. From time to time he turned around to just be greeted by darkness. The tall boy did try to ignore the feeling that made his spine tingle uncomfortably. After a while of just walking, Lance got tired of the silence that wanted to swallow him whole, a tiny humming escaped through his lips. His mood lightened up a bit and he forgot the uncomfortable feeling that told him to run and hide. 

After an hour or so, Lance had made his way to a narrow forest path. A gentle wind ruffled the boys hair almost unnoticed. Leaves gently hit each other, making the calming sound that only could be heard in a peaceful area like forest, where no cars or human activities were nowhere in sight.  
But everyone knows that the peace doesn’t last for long.  
First it was just a silent crunching of the leaves that had fallen on the ground. It was so, so very silent that the tan boy didn’t hear it over his own quiet humming. But what did get Lance back into the reality, was the snap of a branch.  
“W-Who’s there? “ Lance managed to stutter as many scenes in horror movies popped in his mind, but no response was heard. A slight terror corrupted the tan boys’ body.  
In a quick and quiet flash, cold hands had made their way to Lance’s neck and the other to his mouth from behind. A muffled short scream came from the tall boy. A low man’s voice shushed and spoke up. “I won’t take much of your time”.  
Soon enough, Lance felt something sharp pierce through the skin on his neck. He started to get dizzy as the blood slowly, but still quite quickly left his body. The man-, no a vampire let out a low chuckle as Lances’ body fell limply on the slightly wet forest path.  
“Have a nice rest for now,” the vampire said, amusement lacing his voice, as he disappeared into the darkness. Lance felt tired and just wanted to sleep and wake up in his own bed. He closed his eyes and hoped a better tomorrow.

Lance couldn’t sleep. The pain on his neck didn’t let up, it just got worse and worse as the seconds flew by. The warm thick liquid oozed out of the wound(s) and dirtied his shirt. Lances’ blue sleeved and white shirt was now a solid proof of the vampires attack. Lance got up and started to wobble his way, who knows where.  
After a while of limping, unpleasant pain all over his body, headache, sore throat and the wound was still bleeding, Lance noticed a dim light make itself known in the darkness of the forest. He let a small and weak sigh of relief escape his mouth. The tan boy weakly made his way towards the source of the somewhat warm lights. Lance finally noticed a small house, or cottage, that was dimly lit. The atmosphere that the small building hold was inviting, Lance took hesitantly the last few steps to the door and knocked weakly.

Keith’s POV

~~~Do you breathe the name, of your savior, in your hour of need~~~

The darkness had fallen outside of my little cottage. I was working on my spells like I usually do, until I heard a series of knocking echo in the room. I quickly blew out the candles that sat on top of the table and ran to the door.  
At the door was a tall, lanky and tan young man. He was holding a spot where his neck and shoulder connected, on his right side with his left hand. The boys shirt had blood trails, that were quite fresh. He opened his mouth to speak, a weak “help me” made itself roll off his tongue. I told him to come in and opened the door a little wider and stepped out of the way, to let him step inside.  
Once inside, I closed the door behind him and I pushed him down to the floor, I quickly made my way over to him and sat down. I quickly inspected the wound. The boys breathing was too quick and heavy. I brought my hand on top of the bite mark, just inches away from touching the skin. As I used my magic to heal the tan boys wound, the stone hanging around my neck started to glow a green light, as if to show I was using one of the most power consuming spells.  
After I was done I turned my attention towards the boy in front of me. “What’s your name?” I questioned the boy. He looked a bit surprised by my sudden question, but calmed down quite quickly. “Lance, you?” he- Lance, responded and returned the question. “Keith,” I said blankly. “Well, you’re ok now,” I said as I patted his shoulder and got up, leaving him sitting on the floor, a mix of shock and ‘are you kidding me’ look, placed on his face.

~~~And taste the blame 

I returned back to the room I was before the knocking. I sat behind the table, I lowered my head in concentration and snapped my fingers. One by one, the little candles that formed a half circle in front of me, lit up, lastly the long candle that proudly stood in the middle of the smaller ones, had its own little flame.

Almost an hour later I had switched to potion making and Lance had memorized every single corner and crack in my little cottage.  
“What are you doing?” Lance asked while making his way over to me and a little too close for my own comfort. “None of your business! Go do something useful.” I snapped and tried to shoo him away with my left hand, since I was using my right hand for stirring the warm potion in the pot.  
As I turned my attention back to what I was doing, the tan boy made his way quietly out of the room.  
After a little while, Lance returned and was sweeping the floor. First I didn’t mind, but not after a second I realized that he was using my broom. 

I snapped “Hey!  
“W-what?” Lance stuttered out, he was obviously surprised by my sudden raising of voice. “You aren’t suppose to be using that, especially not for cleaning the floor.” I said as I harshly took my broom from him and quickly took the one that was specifically used for cleaning off the floor and shoved it in his hands.  
With some quiet murmurs, Lance continued sweeping the floor. 

Lance’s POV 

It’s been a few days since Keith helped me, and I have been wondering. “Does he not have other clothes for himself?” So I chose to just voice my question and confront him about it. It’s not like I hate his choice of clothing, I mean, the red, little bit big on him, sweater, black tight leggings, black witch hat and the couple of jewelries fit perfectly on him.  
“Heyy Keithy?” I said as to try and catch his attention. “It’s Keith, and what, Lance? “ Keith mumbled the first part and asked in a annoyed tone of voice.

I understood his tone of voice, because he specifically had said that to not to bother or distract him in any way when he is working, at the moment he was playing with a bluish, purplish colored flame that danced on the top of his palm and stared at it like he was experimenting something. The flame was beautiful, and staring at it didn’t hurt my eyes since the light that little flame produced was dull. Even it’s small size and dull light the flame was as hot as the fires of hell, I figured it out first hand, literally, I just wanted to touch it.  
“I was just wondering about your clothing, don’t you own anything else?” I questioned him. “*sigh* Yes, Lance, I do in fact own other clothes. And I thought I told you not to bother me,” Keith responded. ”But I’m bored! And you are no help because you are literally working 24/7~!” I whined as Keith sighed again. 

Me and Keith have little by little started to get along, he even gave me a jacket and a scarf.  
Keith had his back turned towards me, so I thought I could inspect the stuff on his table. I reached out to a jar that was on the opposite side of the table. I didn’t manage to lay even a finger on it before Keith had turned around and slapped my hand away 9from the jar. “What the hell have I told you about touching my stuff? “ Keith said while trying to keep his voice steady and calm. “I’m sorry I just want to help,” I responded without any guilt.  
Keith took a deep breath, and looked at me straight in the eyes. “it’s fine, Lance. I will ask for your help when needed.” The short boy said and smiled a tiny smile.  
I quickly closed my arms around the short body of Keith’s and he made an little ‘oof’ sound when my weight rested on him. 

~~~Come feed the rain, cuz I’m thirsty for your love, dancing underneath the skies of lust~~~

Something is changing in me. And I don’t mean the fact that I’m a vampire now, that became clear the first moment Keith pushed the glass of blood substance into my hands.  
But that substance isn’t enough anymore. I know for a fact that the witch knows this too, but won’t do anything. 

One night, Keith was making something new and I lost myself to the desire. The calling for blood in my head made me blind to the reason.  
I let the monster in me take the reins, and I attacked Keith going straight to his throat.  
Keith was ready though. He reacted quickly and pushed me away, and acted like nothing happened. I was shocked, to say the least.  
It all happened so quickly. One moment I was attacking the witch and the second, he had already pushed me away from him and continued to add spices to whatever he was 

The second time this happened, me attempting to take a bite out of the witch (pun intended), he ripped himself out of my hold and pushed a glass of the blood substance into my hands, harshly, without saying a word 

~~~Cuz without you my life is nothing but this Carnival of Rust~~~

After those, should I say, scary moments, me and Keith, little by little started to grow closer.  
Whether it was him over exaggerate when lighting a candle, that by the way, scared me to death. Or me pointing out the mess he had made on his face, and rewards me with a handful of the disgusting goo to my own face.  
Or the one time I tried to make potions with the witch. Keith said he could teach me. We did it together from the beginning and he said it was easy one. Oh how smug did Keith get when he told me to snap my fingers to light up the liquid after him.  
I snapped my fingers once, twice, trice, but nothing happened. “How the hell?! Keeeith~! This is impossible! “ I whined out.  
Keith just smirked and dripped more liquid into the glowing blue and snapped his fingers with calm manner. The liquid emitted soft blue hue, turning to soft green by the snap.  
Once the hue changed color, Keith and I reached out at the same time to grab different jars from the opposite side of the stone island from us. Our hands crossed over and Keith let out a soft hum and smiled, at the same time we slowly retreated our hands from the jars and as our balms touched we formed a small, friendly greeting. After our fists bumped we gave each other the jar the other was originally reaching for and continued with the potions.

With time, Keith allowed me to help him with his potion making. He would stir and tell or show me what to put in.  
We grew even closer every day. Sometimes we would throw a joke here and there, we worked together, implying that I helped him. Keith smiled more and more around me, he wasn’t so snappy and angry anymore.  
The witch would take more breaks and he even drank with me and we had great time just drinking and talking. I would drink my blood substance that sometimes would have a tiny bit of alcohol in it, just so we could be equal, Keith had explained.  
You could say, we became a team.

~~~Of in the name, of misbehavior of the things we don’t need~~~

Still, Keith didn’t let up with his harsh behavior, he did become understanding when he noticed that the substance wasn’t enough for me as the days passed.  
So, while he was making potions, working with magic, or whatever he was doing, he would once in a while let me feed off his wrist, but let me tell you when I complain to Keith about it.  
“Keef, come on! I can’t get enough blood from your thin wrists, can’t I please – “ I complained, but was cut off by the witch.  
”Lance, either you accept what I offer, or you just have to survive with the substance. Because I need to work and if your teeth are stuck on any other part of my body, I wouldn’t be able to move around.”  
Keith sounded mad, but he sighed and continued.  
“If drinking from my wrists isn’t enough, you can simply forget it.“ He said and turned to continue working. Even stupid could tell that I didn’t complain after that.  
Now when I need the real deal, I tap the ravens shoulder and he holds his hand out to me, no word, no eye contact, just the silent agreement and I bite down on his thin wrist and first let the small beads of blood fall to my tongue. I dig my long fangs deeper into the wrist and start to suck out the deep scarlet liquid over flowing with magic.  
And just when I started to fall under the pleasure of the warmth, Keith rips his hand away from my mouth and wipes his wrist before I even had the time to progress what had happened.

Couple days pass, and Keith is more and more cranky. So I got a bit tired of his bitch of an attitude and chose to mess with him a little.  
I know the raven doesn’t want me anywhere near his broomstick, so automatically I chose to start clean with it, and specifically around him. Keith noticed quickly that I had his broomstick in hand and that was the start of a little game of chase, Keith did have fun, even though he cursed me to hell and back because I touched his broomstick. 

~~~No disaster can touch, touch us anymore~~~

Other time I chose to mess with Keith was when he was reaching out to a jar next to me.  
Keith was humming while reading from his book and blindly reaching behind him to a jar that he was sure was behind him. He reached out farther and farther until it felt like he would never reach it. He stopped humming, turned his head only to find Lance’s face merely inches away. “Wha- Lan- what are-“ Keith kept stuttering as a blush crept up on his face and in a flash, as if remembering what he was doing, reaches out to the jar that Lance was holding out of Keith’s reach, and snapped it out of the vampire’s hold and quickly as a lightning he returned to what he had been doing.  
Needless to say, Lance too was shocked by Keith’s reaction and almost soundlessly whispered, ‘That was adorable’, while a faint heat settled on his cheeks and chest. 

~~~And more than ever I hope to never fall where nothing is the same it was before~~~

Keith has been in a better mood since a week ago, he’s smiling, he’s joking.  
I sat next to Keith as he was working on a potion, gotta say the man loves his potions and spells. I was so focused on his hand that was stirring slowly the liquid that had a smooth scarlet hue to it, that I completely missed the mischievous smirk that rose to the witch’s face and the gleam of enjoyment in his eyes. Keith slowly lifted his hand and snapped his fingers and the hue changed to a white purplish hue and managing to pull me out of the trance. “Huh? What? “ I asked as I turned to face the raven, who was smiling, eyes betraying him and showing the full reaction to surprising Lance, and also the fondness towards the taller male.

I’ve noticed how Keith really does adore his color changing potions and liquids, so of course I wasn’t at all surprised when he had a color changing candle.  
We were by the stone island as usual, I was sitting on a chair, right leg laying on top of the island, Keith’s spell book open in my hands while I leaned on the island and Keith was standing next to me, basically laying on top of my right leg and the island. “Lance, I want you to look at the candle.” He told me casually with a hint of a smile in his voice. He wasn’t looking at me at first, but when I layed my eyes on the candle that stood inside a little jar. The raven started to snap his fingers and the colors changed, white, red, bluish purple, dark green, dark blue, yellow, light green, light blue and then the light disappeared. I was stunned, I love to see Keith use his magic and changing the color of the bright light, was the second beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and it was sure that my face showed my reaction.

Keith has slowed down on the potion making, he does now days more tricks and actual magic. He told me that he specializes in fire magic and that fire was his element.  
Keith was feeling more happy than he ever has, so, he lights a candle and waits till he has the full attention of the vampire whose sitting right next to him. Lance focuses on the little dancing flame in front of the witch. Keith looks at Lance and then the flame. He slowly touches the flame and a dim, bigger, purplish bluish flame dances on Keith’s fingertips until he blows it out, a breathless gasp escaped Lance’s lips as he watched the dim flame separate from the mother flame. This time Keith touches the flame with his index finger and the same dim flame follows, now the witch blows it out at Lance’s face, and the taller just laughs and happy expression makes home, that is until the witch quickly rises to leave and kisses the vampire’s cheek and the heat Lance is now familiar with settles on his face and up to his ears and down his neck.

~~~Come feed the rain, cuz I’m thirsty for your love, dancing underneath the skies of lust. Cuz without you my life is nothing but this Carnival of Rust~~~

Keith had a fond, but tired look on his face as he looked at Lance, who was very enthusiastic about making the potion all by himself.  
Lance’s head turned and he was facing the witch. Keith reached out his hand before Lance could say anything. Excitement turned to surprised, but as the ravens hand rested on Lance’s cheek.  
Lance pushed his cheek more to the touch and closed his eyes and just let the calm take him.  
He opened his eyes as he felt movement from Keith. The witch had stood up and stepped in front of the taller man stepping more into his comfort zone.  
Lance lifted his head to meet with Keith’s and as the raven was merely inches away he let go of the stick he was using to stir the potion in the pot, and bought his hand over Keith’s other hand that was resting on his neck, to rest on the witch’s neck. He closed his eyes as Keith closed the gap between their lips and Lance melted into the soft kiss full of adoration.  
As they separated, neither said a word, Lance continued on his pot with a calm manner. Keith started to make food for himself so he could feed the hungry vampire.

As Keith had finished, he sat down with his food next to Lance, who had changed his sitting place to the ravens other side. No one said a word, just the promise that both of them would get their fill, hang heavy in the air.  
Keith offered his hand out to the taller man without looking at him and took a bite of his own food. Lance silently wrapped his fingers around the pale wrist littered with tiny holes. He took a breath and looked a bit worriedly at the worn out witch by his side. He didn’t bring it up, just silently lifted the hand and softly bit down, pale one flinched, but didn’t say, nor do anything.  
As Lance after a little while got lost on the warm sensation, Keith started to lose consciousness, he put down his fork, and softly, with a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes, tapped with his fingers at Lance’s cheek. When Lance slowed down, the witch layed his balm on the others cheek and Lance snuggled into the bit cold touch and let go of the pale, now dripping scarlet, hand go.

Keith was again working with his potions, but something was off with him.  
Lance had noticed that the witch wasn’t himself, he was careless and mixed up some jars. So one evening Lance was attached to the short one by the hip and snuggling the pale cheek, giving soft kisses to it. Keith was smiling, it was small, but still noticeable.  
Keith was reaching out for a jar over the pot, Lance noticed, but knew it was the wrong one. So he gently laid his bigger tan hand over the pale one, and softly guided to a small clear bottle full of light green liquid opposite of the jar. Keith thanked by snuggling his cheek softly against the tan one. He stared to pour the liquid into the pot, Lance stared to kiss all over his cheek and Keith melted into it only for a few seconds, till he realized that he was pouring too much and quickly sealed the bottle. Both ended up laughing.  
After finishing up, Keith was a bit more relaxed. Having a good laugh, making power consuming potion and Lance by his side does wonders. The witch wasn’t sure how to thank the taller man. So he just went with his heart, and kissed couple of times Lance’s cheek, making him laugh with the effort the shorter of the two was making. In the end, they were both laughing. 

~~~When the heart is yearning! Don’t walk away, don’t walk away when the world is burning~~~

Keith is working on his every day thing by the island as Lance stands near him. The witch isn’t hurrying this time, he’s calm and works slow, either from the lack of energy or just because he can take his time.  
Lance on the other hand is unusually quiet. He stares at Keith’s hands, as they stir the goo with a glowing wand. A bit heavy silence has settled over the two, the shorter working and the taller just silently watching, like a predator for his next prey.

~~~Don’t walk away~~~

Quick as a lighting, Lance is ripping Keith’s hand away from the stone island, and the witch is desperately trying to find a way out the others death grip, Lance is pulling Keith away from the island and the witch tries to get a hold on something to get away from the hunger filled Lance, but only manages to nock over the bowl.  
Slowly the witch loses strength and falls to the ground with Lance. Lance has a strong hold on Keith’s arm and he’s biting deeper into the flesh on the wrist.  
Quickly the witch is falling into the cold blackness that so strongly is trying to consume him. Keith lost all of his strength to fight against Lance and just let’s the taller one take what he needs.  
Soon enough, Lance calms down and let’s the hand fall out of his mouth. As he registers what happened and why is he on the floor.  
Lance’s eyes fall on the pale face in front of him. “Keith? Keith wake up, please? “ He begs silently as the tears pile in his eyes and starts to fall. He rests his head on the slightly warm cheek and his eyes land on the still bleeding mess. Quickly he let’s go of the witch who’s laying on his stomach, rises to his knees and grabs few paper towels as the panic settles in his core.  
Lance returns to Keith’s side, turns him on his back and laying on the witch’s head on his lap. Covers the wound and only prays to whatever would listen, that Keith would be alright.

~~~Don’t walk away when the heart is yearning~~~


	2. Seven Devils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy Water  
Cannot help you now  
A thousand armies  
Couldn’t keep me out  
I don’t want your money   
I don't want your Crown  
See, I have to burn   
Your Kingdom down  
Holy Water...  
...
> 
> Can the vampire save his witch lover? Or will the necromancer kill the vampire?

... 

........ 

........... 

........ 

... 

At the edge of the forest, standing at the far end of the oat field, was an old cottage. Dim yellowish light seeped out of the window facing the forest. 

  
Smell of burning wood surrounding the cottage as a thin layer of smoke flowed from the chimney into the cloudy night sky.  
Steadily a few small snowflakes fell from the dark grey clouds to the slowly whitening frozen green forest floor. 

A tall, broad and dark figure moved about in the working area, filled with different bottles, potions, powders and grafts. On one counter, two black tall candles stood tall near the edge. 

  
A series of small candles stood near the middle of the counter. In front of the little ones, stood a red and a black candle and behind the little ones stood a glass vase with a dried red rose and a lot of tiny, dried white cow parsley, which were all covered in cobwebs. A small, yellowish paper with ripped edges, had been tied around one of the cow parsley branch with a red ribbon. On the paper read;

  
**Shiro,**  
**Sorry for your love.**  
** I’m here for you.**  
** -K**

  
A soft, steady chime of a bell echoed through the dark silent room. The chime slowly dying down when the red lost its flame. The dark, cloaked figure looked at the unlit candle, small huffs falling in worry and anger.   
Slowly backing away from the counter, the figure turned to a note, ripping it away. The words;

  
**Days since last necromancy 6**

  
Revealing another note underneath with same words, except instead of number six the number was zero. 

  
Gathering the needed equipment and broom. Walking around the counter. Quickly blowing out the two tall black candles and hurriedly almost running out of the door, but before stepping out to the cold unforgiving November night, the figure turned and ripped another note off the wall;

  
**Cool kids don’t use necromancy**

  
Grabbing one last bottle and closing the door behind himself. 

  
As the sun rays started to lick up the earths surface, the door to Keith's little cottage in the woods burst open with force and Shiro in a black cloak, holding a little, murky glass bottle in his left hand and a broom on the other, ran in through the door. Letting the wooden door pounce from the wall and silently close again.

  
The tall, lanky and tan vampire flinched, eyes wide as plates, from the sound of Keith's name echoing through the rooms. With heavy breath, he gently laid Keith’s unmoving body, which Lance had been cradling for at least an hour or two, to the cold, unforgiving, dirty floor with dried blood pools covering the light brown wood.

  
Lance quickly checked the witch and hurriedly got up, but still, softly and gently stepped over and away from the other’s body, before almost running around the island.

All of Keith’s tools, equipment's, etc. Were still standing at their place on the islands, unmoved from last use. The bowl the witch had worked a potion on was long gone empty, all of the liquid had poured to the floor ages ago, some droplets still slowly dripping to the almost dried puddle.

  
“Help! Please help! Please!“ the tan vampire plead in a hurry. “I just, I don’t know what happened!” he struggled to form the words into correct sentences as Shiro got closer.   
“It’s MY fault! But I don’t care!” Lance swore, strongly, while twirling around in panic. “Just do.... Please do some... “ he pleaded, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he fell to his knees, just inches away from the older necromancer, who slammed the glass bottle to the black island. 

  
“You know, the nice thing about your kind...” Shiro lowered his voice to almost soundless whisper as he closed in on the trembling and panicking vampires’ face. “You can kill vampires as many times as you want, and they will keep coming back for more.“ Shiro whispered in Lance’s face, almost shouting the last words as he shoved, with his skeleton hand, the vampires’ lanky body to the cold wooden floor, anger flowing from every action. 

_ **Holy Water! ** _

With hurry in his steps, the necromancer rounded the island, stepping over the lifeless form of his student, friend, brother.   
Falling to his knees, softly cradling the pale chin between bony, meatless fingers and carefully turning the head. Just to make sure, Shiro, barely touching, listened to the non-existing heartbeat. The younger witch's pale skin cold as ice. 

  
With more rushed, but well practiced movements, Shiro pulled out from his pocket a wooden rosary, which he gently laid on his left hand, under the cold, pale fingers, to the long since cold palm. 

  
The glass bottle the necromancer had slammed to the island counter, but had been picked up again, was standing near Keith. Shiro picked it off the floor. Taking the cap off, he carefully put his fleshy finger to the bottles’ mouth, turning the bottle upside down couple times and flicking the holy water once on the witch’s chest as a safety precaution. 

  
Pulling a chain with a charm stone from his other pocket. Shiro dangled the stone over Keith’s torso, holding tight to the chain with his flesh hand. With the little swings he created a cross sign, blessing, praying to whoever would listen, to save the young witch.

  
With one more tiny prayer and a heavy sigh, somewhere along the sentences of prayer and chanted words, something, someone, had reached out. 

  
With a deep, but quick breath, Keith opened his eyes. 

  
But the familiar purple and space galaxies were gone, replaced by a void of endless black that covered the whole eye, iris blending to the whites. 

  
Blinking away the haze, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting of red and sunlight from behind the thin black curtains. Slowly turning his head to the left, eyes wide and a sinister smirk lifted the corners of the witch’s lips, revealing the pure pearl white teeth, that just yesterday smiled with pure innocence. But now nothing more than the proof of a sinner. 

  
With the smirk on his lips, eyes shining with devils mischief, Keith sat up, his forearm holding the weight. Curling his fingers around the rosary, left wrist dirty with pools of dried blood. 

  
But only a half a second he managed to hold his torso up, the skeleton hand on the chest, covered with the familiar red sweater, pushed the youngest of the two back to the cold, bloodied wooden floor, which looked like a murder scene, with a harsh force. 

_ **Seven devils all around me** _

On the other side of the island, the vampire started to stir from his shock, caused by the necromancer. Laying on his back, both hands on either side of his head. The normal ocean blues wide like dinner plates, mouth decorated inside with long, sharp and strong fangs, gasping for a breath out of past life habit.

  
Hurriedly Lance looked around, in time to see Keith open his beautiful, but not familiar purple eyes. Instead of the purple, the eyes were pale red with purplish hue. Lance turned around on his stomach, crawling a bit closer to the edge of the island. Reaching out his hand towards the pale witch with ebony hair shining with life again.

  
Relief clear on the vampire's lips as the tiniest smile curved up.

  
The smile quickly vanishing and turning into a worried frown as Keith quickly tries to get away from the other. Legs not completely working yet and cornered to the work place.  
The witch’s back halfway on the floor and on the cupboard door. The pure love in those beautiful, beautiful eyes buried deep under the pure fear, just like a tiny feral cat cornered by a huge wolf.

  
The relief long gone from Lance’s face and voice. With despair, his voice broke. “Keith...“he called out, not yelling, but panicked whisper. “I’m sorry, please...” Lance kept his voice low and tried to crawl closer to the witch, only to get the end of the necromancers’ broom between his shoulder blades, right where his shoulders and neck connected. Hitting the nerve and successfully knocking him out cold

.  
As Shiro had gotten Keith up and about he pulled out a chair and rope as Keith stood in front of a fridge right hand on his neck and left below the right elbow, body still trembling.

  
Shiro moved the chair a bit closer to the black island and bended to pick up the unconscious vampire off the floor and pushing him on the dark wooden chair.   
On the other side of the island Keith felt dizzy, legs trembling as he fell backwards back hitting the other edge of the island before falling forward, body slamming to the cold floor, the necromancer in a rush by his side. Softly Shiro shook the witch away, holding Keith’s head as he helped him sit up.  
Soon the necromancer left Keith’s side to the vampire who was waking up. 

  
As Lance regained consciousness and started to look around firm hands trapped his windpipe into a lock, not letting air through, choking him back into the la la land of black void.

_ **Seven Devils in my House** _

Shiro had helped Keith back on his feet, making sure that he was alright to be left alone with the vampire.

  
The necromancer put Keith’s hat back in its rightful place on top of his head, positioning it correctly and hugged the other one last time, Keith hugged back.

  
Shiro tied the rosary around Keith’s left wrist on top of the long red sweater sleeve. Looking at the witch with concern in his grey eyes as Keith’s gaze fell to the tan vampire’s unmoving, tied up body and soon looking away.

  
The necromancer watched over Keith as he tried to do a potion that would light up blue on command, as Keith snapped his fingers and the bubbling liquid in the black cauldron emitted the bluish glow the witch’s face lighted up like the liquid the smile so radiant that it made Shiro smile.

  
As minutes rolled around and the smaller witch calmed down and relaxed, Shiro taught him how to blow the bluish purplish flames on top of his balm and then make it melt back into the yellow glow of the warm candle fire. 

  
With wide smiles and soft laughter echoing inside the room, both witches playing around with the soft flames that danced on their balms. 

**_See, I was dead when I woke up this morning_**

Keith had changed out of his familiar red sweater because of the blood and holy liquid and in Shiros’s request. The red sweater swapped with a black, long sleeve, loose crop top with big white letters written on the front “Practice safe hex” and on the sleeves were white skull, seers glass ball, moon with a star and bats on the bottom of the sleeve and on the shoulder was a planchette.

  
Before leaving Shiro left the glass bottle still filled with holy water on the island. He layed his skeleton hand on Keith’s shoulder, sliding it to his wrist and holding it up so the rosary was in the line of sight, reminding him to be careful with gentle force. He let go of Keith’s wrist and took his own broom from where he left it and walked out of the cottage with a last goodbye before the door shut closed once more.

_ **I’ll be dead before the day is done...** _

Keith dragged the chair the tall vampire had been tied to, still unconscious, to the area the witch works at. Keith was still, strangely on guard as he carefully laid his hand on top of the chocolate brown curls, softly, pulling Lance’s head up and quickly, as if regretting his decision to touch the other, he slapped the vampire’s left cheek, successfully pulling the other out of the black abyss of sweet, sweet la la land.

  
Lance was in shock, eyes wide and head going every which way, eyes looking around as if he had forgotten where he was. The witch, whether in fear and on instinct, or trying to help, picked up a plastic bowl, quickly swinging it in Lance’s direction, holding tightly onto the empty bowls edge. The tan male in reflex turned his head away waiting for the impact, but it never came. As he didn’t feel anything he turned his head slowly back to the witch’s direction, who had long ago lowered the bowl to the islands surface.

By his works side Keith stood and stared at Lance, who was trying to get a hold of his hood with his teeth, but so far he was failing, miserably.

  
The witch got frustrated and stomped the few steps forward, towards the taller of the two. Frown glued on his face as he took the edge of the grey hood in his hands and basically slapped the hood on top of the short brown mop of hair, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips as he returned to his spells and potions.

_**And now all your love**_

Lance watched Keith open a round glass bottle. As the cap fell off and the witch moved his fingers off of the label Lance was able to read it.  
**“Holy water”**  
A panic rose, eyes wide, Lance begged and pleaded as Keith took a hold of the glass of blood substitute supply. The chanting of “No! Please no! “ fell to the deaf ears from between the pointy fangs as Keith, without hesitation, poured all of the holy liquid into the blood.

  
A smirk settled to the witch’s lips as he offered the drink to the vampire who desperately tried to back away, but he back of the chair was against the cupboard and wasn’t budging. Keith slowly approached with the glass, filled with, and I quote “**holy blood”**, like a threat. Lance kept squirming on his seat as Keith brought the glass close to Lance’s face, who turned his head away, but the smile vanished from the witch’s face and brought the glass around the others head, pouring it in the sink behind Lance’s back. Putting the glass in the sink and stepping away as Lance turned his head back.

  
As Keith stepped up to his work place he snatched a dried, fleshy finger from a jar and showed it into the vampire’s mouth, harshly.  
The witch walked back to his cauldron as Lance spitted the finger out and sent it flying to the floor.

  
_**Will be exorcised**_

Keith took the holy water bottle, holding it with both hands and kept his eyes on it as he walked in front of Lance, who was pleading and squirming. Slapping his left hand on Lance’s mouth, pending his neck back so his face was toward the ceiling.

  
Panic in his eyes, body trembling with fear as Lance’s eyes locked onto the bottles mouth as Keith held the bottle high above directly in line with the area between his eyes, pale hand tightly holding tan face down. Slowly he started to flip the bottle. As it was almost flipped completely Lance shut his eyes tight and fought back, throwing his head forward forcing Keith to take his hand off, but Keith hold on and fought it pushing Lance’s head back even more before letting go and stepping away. 

  
Lance coughed and hurled, few tears falling as he hung his head low. The witch, guilt dripping from his eyes, turned back to the vampire and stepped next to him.

  
Softly lowering his hand on the other’s shoulder, only making him jump and lower further away from the pale witch who took his hand away, but not far.

  
Few coughs escaped Lance’s lips as Keith’s cool, pale fingers took a hold of the tan chin, other hand hovering near the right cheek, turning his face up. Inching his fingers up from Lance’s chin up to his cheek, never loosing skin contact.

  
Slow and gently Keith wiped the running tears away with his pale thumb, Lance relaxing a little to the burningly familiar touch, yearning hammering in his heart. But too soon, Keith was stepping away.

_ **It’s to be Paradise** _

Keith was leaning on the fridge his back to the island, shoulders harshly jumping up and down with every too deep breath. Finally letting a sigh slip and on soft feet padded forward.

  
The vampire had fallen asleep, eyes closed but twitching from time to time, a clear sign of deep sleep. Head resting on his right shoulder, sleeping position looking very much uncomfortable.

  
Silently edging closer, still vary, but brave enough to go on ahead and carefully untangling the blue and white rope from the chair and around Lance and throwing it to the floor.

_**And it’s an even sum**_

The witch was fiddling with the rosary’s chain around his wrist, but quickly trapped his wrist in his right hand’s hold and backed away, as far as possible to the farthest corner in his work area, away from the vampire, who started to stir and a yawn broke out, sharp fangs visible to the world.

  
Keith held his hands, left balm open, in front of himself, scaring Lance who managed to notice his new freedom his arms and torso had. Lance backed away on the chair, hand held up and head pending left as Keith lifted his left hand to his face, noting the small, black cross on the middle of his balm.   
Lowering his right hand close to his torso. Keith turned his left side closer to Lance extending his left hand, balm in Lance’s sight and just an inch closer.

  
In invitation the witch nodded his head and extended his arm more and turning his balm up to face the ceiling. Lance edged forward on his chair as far as he could without lifting himself up. Extending his own, a bit bigger, tan hand.

  
Keith lowered his own hand, meeting the tan one halfway. Just inches away, Lance slides his balm over the pale one, but as their balms touched the vampire was in a flash, pulling his hand back. Cradling it close to his chest and turned his torso away from Keith, body still heaving from the intense pain, while softly blowing cold air on his balm.

  
No smirk, not even a lift of the corner didn’t rise to his pale pinkish lips this time. A worry instead glossed over his reddish purple eyes as he looked at the small black cross in disgust.

  
Carefully Keith took a glass halfway filled with blood and bringing it between the two of them. Pointing at it with his index finger as he got the vampire’s attention, silently asking if he needed one, unsure and guarded, Lance nodded.

  
“Only this, ” Keith said sternly and slowly brought the glass and holding it from the top, close to Lance, not moving an inch from his spot. “There is no holy water, I swear,” Keith said with angry but bored voice that faded towards the end.

  
Lance took the glass, cradling it close and sniffing, not fully trusting his, but not his, lovers words.

_**It’s a Battle Cry**_

Days passed and Lance was able to relax, not much, but a little. He wasn’t so afraid of the witch himself, but instead afraid of all of the protections the necromancer had covered Keith with. Speaking of, at the moment the witch was working on a potion, fiddling around with a bottle of clear green liquid, but put it down instead of pouring it in.  
His focus on the cauldron in front of him, but reaching behind himself with his left hand in an invitation to the vampire to join the witch in a rush of nostalgia of the old times. But as no response came he looked at Lance, who had a frown on his face, eyes dark and the hood of his hoodie deep on his head. The warmth of the nostalgic feeling quickly vanished as the realization hit him and he switched his left to right hand.

  
Lance got up from the chair, but avoided Keith’s hand, a bang of guilt dripped down Keith’s back as the vampire stepped to his side.

  
Afraid to say a word, Keith tapped a cap of a bottle as a silent plea for Lance to open it as he himself avoided eye contact and blew the excess heavy fog of the potion inside the cauldron away, the white fog falling along the cauldrons’ black wall like a waterfall.  
As Keith continued on and Lance’s help wasn’t necessary at the moment, the vampire looked around the contents of the island, taking a glance at the witch, but soon found interest in the bottles. 

  
Keith added, what he hoped to be the last ingredient of the potion, taking a deep breath and momentarily forgetting Lance next to him as he lowered his trembling left hand into the cauldron, right hand gripping the edge and holding his breath as the freezing cold surged a big amount of pain throughout his left arm.

  
Seconds later taking his hand out, still seeing the disgusting cross sign on his balm. Anger, frustration. Closing his fingers around it and cradling his left hand with his right. Keith quickly went through other possible ingredients in his mind and hurriedly picked up a big clear glass jar with a clear lid, and with black liquid and a skeleton of a small rodent of sort, inside. 

_**See, they were here when I woke up this morning**_

Both taking a break, Lance with a glass of blood supply and leaning on the fridge. Keith still standing by the cauldron, back facing the taller male. Keith was using a jar lid as a mirror and applying black lipstick, whether of his own decision on impulse or on something else’s control, he isn’t sure

  
But as he put the lid back on the jar and glanced at Lance, their eyes met, a realization hit him and the witch looked away. Lance wasn’t expecting to see the witch with black covering pink lips and was shocked for a moment. He took a minute and then stepped over, next to Keith, back pended forward looking from below as he sat his half empty glass of blood down on the island.  
Keith was mentally panicking ‘what had he done!?’ But as Lance’s curious face appeared from the corner of his eyes and a soft “Keith~” sounded, he looked in the vampire’s direction, they held eye contact for half a minute, which felt like days, even years, until both looked away, Keith going back to work and Lance questioning his life choices. Eventually a smile, small, but not non-existent, appeared on both of their faces. 

**_It’s a Symphony_**

Keith had started to work on a new potion, or more like trying new tricks and what works and what didn’t. Lance had finished his glass of blood, but wasn’t satisfied yet. The vampire hesitated, Keith was searching something from the top cupboard, Lance took a breath and softly tapped the witch’s left shoulder, but Keith wasn’t expecting it and hit Lance’s hand with his left one, the small black cross burning the tan hand.

  
Keith quickly retreated his hand, apologizing, while guilt was clear on his turned away face. Hesitantly Lance offered empty glass to Keith, “More?“ he carefully asked and Keith snatched the glass from the vampires right hand. While Keith took out the blood supply can and punching the end of a spoon into it and pouring the liquid into the glass, Lance quietly held his hand, willing the pain to get lost by pushing the pain spot, while his pain and discomfort was clear on his very expressive face. Lance looked at Keith just in time to see the other make a hole to the can’s lid with the end of a spoon ‘_What the quiznak_!?’

_ **Seven devils all around you ** _

Screw the work that needs to be done, Keith hates being afraid of Lance and most of all he hates it when Lance is afraid of him and gets hurt by him.

  
Keith wants Lance back, he wants the days before this... 

  
Keith quit the potion he was working on and glanced at Lance, raising his left hand, just a little off of his lap, all fingers close to the balm except his little finger. Raising his hand more and closer to Lance, offering the other to take hold and looked away, eyes shut tight as he held his breath. Lance slowly lifted his own hand, pinkie held apart. Hesitantly he raised his pinkie to Keith’s, sliding it over the fingers, inches away, afraid of the burning pain. Tapping his and Keith’s little fingers together quickly a couple of times before Lance left his small but bigger than the other’s finger sit on top of the pale one.   
Keith, still looking away, opened his eyes. A soft smile lifting the corners of his black lips as he curled his little finger, making the hold between the two fingers stronger. Lance curled his own finger around Keith’s, small smiles on their lips as both looked at their intertwined fingers. 

_**I’ll be dead before the day is...**_

As Keith was adding some black candle wax into his potion and Lance was, well, playing with a potion bottle filled with dark liquid.  
Keith looked at the dark potion in his bowl and then at his hand. Smile, wider than anything before it as a light bulb went off in his head. Happy with his idea, eyes twinkling as he focused, Lance looking at him with interest, but bored look. With a quick snap of the witch’s fingers black, fingerless leather gloves appeared on his hands. ‘If I can’t get rid of it, then I’ll hide it,’ He thought with a satisfied smile on his lips. Keith brought his hand close to Lance, the rosary dangling in the air between them as the vampire lifted his own hand and slowly layed his balm flat with Keith’s the soft black leather saving Lance’s hand from the horrendous pain.  
A little while later, Keith offered his hand to Lance again, only this time his sleeve was lifted mid-way the pale forearm. The scars, still reddish, clearly visible on his wrist. The witch’s intent was obvious.

  
As Lance circled his longer tan fingers around Keith’s. The witch turned his head away, eyes shut tight. Lance’s face edged closer to the revealed skin of the pale wrist, but as he laid his other hand higher on the arm, laying it right on top of the rosary’s chain and pulled his hand back. Turning around on his stool, frown heavy and Lance walked out of the room, maybe even the cottage, Keith wasn’t sure, nor was he the wiser as a heavy panic started to surface its ugly face.

_**They can keep me high**_

Keith fiddled with the rosary, before finally ripping it away from his wrist, holding tight until slowly letting it slip from his fingers down to the bowl beneath, “I’m sorry, Shiro...“  
Emotions twirling around his head, earlier he had flipped and knocked the red bowl over, the potion falling out, but rosary still laying inside. 

  
At the moment Keith was jumpy, worry lacing his mind and he had walked to his alcohol storage and grabbed a big bottle of wine. As the night continued on and the darkness was vanishing slowly, Keith could feel the effects of drinking alone a big bottle. The witch was already drunk, worried and guilty, what one more small bottle could do. 

  
In the end, as the early morning rolled its chilly November sun rays, the small witch was passed out cold, the messy black island used as a pillow and a halfway done second small bottle almost rolling away from the gentle hold. 

  
Lance sighed at the mess Keith had caused, “Oh Keith...” he whispered as he rolled his eyes and walked away only to return with a dark blue blanket, which he laid softly on the witch’s shoulders. Lance sat by Keith, holding tightly on the smaller pale hand, his right hands’ fingers laced with Keith’s and other holding their wrists in a gentle hold.   
Lance rubbed his thumb in gentle circles on the witch’s hand, laying his chin on their intertwined fingers as he himself looked at the far wall in a daze. Soon enough Keith started to stir, a yawn breaking the witch’s mouth wide open as he slowly lifted his head up. 

  
Keith was in a after sleep daze and kept looking around, noticing their twined fingers. He ripped his hand free as he remembered the night before. But Keith noticed the gloves and quickly, but carefully, took a hold of the tan fingers again, bringing Lance’s hand close to his chest. Holding tight with both, pale hands, as the relief washed over him. 

**_‘Till I tear the walls_**

Keith was trying to finish his Dr.Pepper as Lance drank his blood. With a playful mischief the vampire clicked his glass with the witch’s bottle when he lowered it from his lips. Keith’s resting bitch face turned to a soft smile at Lance’s wide toothy smile.   
Keith gulped and lowered his bottle to the counter not giving himself time to hesitate. He took Lance’s glass, that still had some blood in it, off of the tan hand. The witch instead offered his left wrist. Lance hesitated, but soft smile and gentle eyes, he pushed Keith’s hand down, taking his glass back, “Yoink, this is fine for meh,” Lance nodded to the smaller male, who let out a tiny chuckle. After taking a sip Lance put down the glass, only to turn back to Keith, who was lifting his left hand again. With the vampire in a small shock, Keith took a soft hold of the tan neck covered by the white fabric pulling the other forward, only to pull the white strings tight, almost making Lance fall off the stool. Keith’s laughter echoing in the small room as Lance scoffed. 

_**And I take your soul**_

Time passed and the two got comfortable around each other, pulling pranks and playful banters. 

  
Keith was making something glowy in his cauldron, he took his spatula and pretended to take a taste, encouraging Lance to take a look. As Lance leaned over the witch shoved the vampire’s face into the cauldron. The smell, so overwhelming that Lance passed out once Keith let him go. Only Keith’s amused laughter echoing in Lance’s head. 

  
... 

  
Keith had pulled his ebony black front hair up on top of his head away from his face with a baby blue hair tie. Only for Lance to keep slapping the black little fluff of hair. Lance, on the other hand, had stolen the witch’s black hat with a black bow and wore it on his own head, but once Keith, in his frustration, pulled the hood strings the hat fell off. 

  
...

  
Keith had just turned away from the cupboard as Lance flicked the rim of the hat, so Keith swung the vampire’s hood down, which made the tan males laugh die down. Pulling his hood back up and holding the strings Lance pretended like nothing happened. Slowly Keith pulled the hood back down, only to have Lance looking away and hide his neck with his hand. Softly, oh so softly, Keith turned the taller male a little and slowly lifted the tan hand away from the tan neck. Still holding on to Lance’s hand, Keith leaned in and softly pressed a kiss to the small pale scars on Lance’s neck, staying a little while longer, body pressed to the other and his warm breath hitting the tan coldish skin, but soon pulling away and going back to work.

  
As the witch was putting ingredients away, Lance snaked his long arms around Keith, one hand on the chest and other on the hip, and turned the smaller one around to face him, pulling him close. Keith laid his hands on Lance’s shoulders and his right hand on Lances’ neck, as Lances’ hands had made their own way, right one under Keith's ear and the other to the witch’s waist. Both of the vampire’s hands guided Keith, if possible, even closer. Lances’ right hand lifted Keith’s pale, but flushed red, face up so Lance could slot their lips together, and oh how well they fitted, like two separate puzzle pieces. The kiss, soft, but getting heated quickly as seconds passed. Keith was literally melting on the spot, but Lance tightened his hold and brought the witch level with him and deepened the kiss. It was perfect and exactly what the two needed.

  
…

  
The kisses, Keith couldn’t possibly get enough of those, but when his cottage rat got more attention than him from Lance, of course he got jealous. Taking the black rat from the vampire’s hands and laying him somewhere out of sight. Sighing like a frustrated teenage girl in love, Keith took a hold of Lance’s cheeks, kissing him and sliding his hands to the hood as Lance tried to deepen the kiss and pull the witch closer by his shoulders, but Keith softly pushed Lance away, succeeding in pulling the strings of the white hood. By now, both had gotten used to the unexpected tricks they pulled on each other, so both just laughed and in the end the tan vampire did get his sweet, sweeter than sugar, body melting kiss. 

_ **Before the day is done** _

Lance dressed Keith in his hoodie, which was big on the witch, and pulled the hood on top of Keith’s head, nicely setting his long ebony hair (mullet) into it. Lance booped Keith’s nose with his own and quickly pulled hood strings, he pulled hard enough to pull Keith’s head towards the vampire’s chest and Lance laid his hand behind the witch’s head and gave a kiss on top, only to received a slap from a hand that was hidden by the long white sleeve. Keith lowered the hood as Lance pulled the witch to his chest. Keith slid his hands behind the taller male’s neck as Lance snaked his own hands around the other, holding tight, sweet nothings whispered between the two. 

  
Slow, soft kisses and a love so, so very deep, so much so that even the Seven Devils themselves couldn’t break apart.

_ **Holy Water** _   
_ **Cannot help you now** _   
_ **A thousand armies** _   
_ **Couldn’t keep me out** _   
_ **I don’t want your money ** _   
_ **I don't want your Crown** _   
_ **See, I have to burn ** _   
_ **Your Kingdom down** _   
_ **Holy Water...** _   
_ **...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this story so much, even though I sacrificed my health... Please give love to the creator of the original CMV in YouTube   
24 Karat Cosplay and kudos and comments much appreciated!
> 
> Again, I had full rights for making this story, no hate from u meanies!


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